


The Rush is Loud

by MemoryCrow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, also his butt, excessive Cas appreciation, obsessed with Castiel's mouth, overwhelmed Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemoryCrow/pseuds/MemoryCrow
Summary: Just smut. That about sums it up.





	The Rush is Loud

Shivers raced over Dean’s skin. He was flushed, heat in a shimmer around his head, but the heat warred with goosebumps raised over his hips, his ribs. His breath came shallow, labored.

He was sprawled in a chair, stark naked. Slouched, butt to the edge of the seat, legs spread apart. Castiel knelt between, causing both heat and shivers. Dean was hypnotized by the slow bob of Castiel’s head, by his hands; in a warm slide, up and down Dean’s thighs. Cas was bare chested, barefoot, trousers undone. Dean touched his face, gripped the softness of his messy hair. Sometimes Castiel looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes, and it felt as if Dean’s entire pelvic floor bore down in a stormy, anxious way. Blood rose to his cheeks and shivers breathed over his belly; big muscles in his legs tensed, feet pressed hard to the floor.

… The _sounds_ Cas made…. Soft, _hungry_ sounds. When Dean flexed his hips, pushing up, thrusting, Castiel moaned. The angel’s eyes closed, brow showing tension as he took Dean in, and the hapless moan in his throat vibrated, delirious and lush, along Dean’s cock. He was obsessed with Castiel’s mouth. His soft, full lips, the upper lip so prettily sculpted. Cas’s tongue was soft and wet, his mouth hot and eager. It sparked a flare of testosterone, and Dean murmured, “You like that dick, Cas?”

He talked like porn. He couldn’t help it. He half expected Castiel to let him go, to query with puzzled eyes, wondering over the gruff tone. But Castiel’s eyes opened to him, all want. He made his hungry sounds, hands gripped to Dean’s hips. Dean was so close to coming… he’d been riding a sharp edge, going quietly insane for moments on end. He almost spilled over, part of him wanting exactly that… To flood into Cas, to feel his throat close and open, tense and swallow. But he didn’t want it to be over. A deep throb pulled in his lower belly; it radiated out through his limbs, leaving him gasping.

 _Fuck_. Castiel was so fucking beautiful. Dean pushed himself upright, slippery dick sliding from Castiel’s wet lips. His cock looked tormented… lengthened and hot-red, veins swollen and head glistening, ripe. Hands to Castiel’s face, thumbs caressing a jaw dark with stubble, he opened his mouth to a kiss.

It was so wet, the kiss. Open mouths, tongues lapping against one another. He was hungry in a way that was almost scary… He kissed Castiel’s mouth, then over his face. He sucked at Castiel’s neck, all warmth and salt, body folding to caress over Castiel’s back. Moments were suspended, a stopping of time that was filled with hushed breath and soft moans; a far-off beating of angel wings; Dean couldn’t seem to get enough. His mouth, his skin was thirsty. His chest was full of ache. He fed his cock into Castiel’s mouth, only to pull it out and bend down for another kiss. Then the feeding again, Cas’s moans escalating as Dean’s fingers touched his mouth, held his head in place as he thrust, aggressive and needy.

He came to the edge again… a point of dropping off into nothing. Hands at Castiel’s jaw and skull, hips moving, both of them rigid with suspense. Somehow, he made himself pull out, away. He was going to _burst_ … it would be like light escaping Castiel’s body, when wounded.

Gruff again, he said, “Come here.” His arms went around Cas, pulling him upright. The angel stood, and Dean was met with the head of his cock, peeping from the open trousers. It was like a luscious, wicked plum, shining with wetness. Dean laved his tongue over its fullness, tasting saline, lips swelling with heat, and gripped hard to Castiel’s muscled hips as he swayed on his feet. “ _Dean_ …” Castiel murmured.

Dean looked up and saw Castiel’s face, gone dark. His eyes were storms, his lips swollen and cheeks, chest flushed. _Fuck._

Fuck. Fuck.

Pushing the trousers down over a landscape of flesh, so warm and lush, Dean held the hot length of Cas’s cock and nursed the unquiet head.  Hands braced to Dean’s shoulders, Castiel stepped from the trousers. His hands moved to Dean’s head, feeling over the shape of his skull… feeling along his jaw, thumbs coming to touch against sucking lips.

… There it was again… the wave, the vice that gripped Dean’s insides, that tugged at his balls, full and taut, and utterly took him over. When the vice released him, he would be molten and liquid. He moaned, taking in more of Cas. The restrained thrust of Castiel’s hips made him feel new levels of crazy.

Castiel stood back a little. His fingertips smelled of sex and touched under Dean’s chin. He held his angry dick, and rubbed the head; all soft, apricot-skinned kiss; against Dean’s lips. Then against his face. Dean’s eyes closed, heavy and vision darkening. It was like seeing heat rise from the road. His mouth opened, gulping air; he was overwhelmed for Castiel to handle him, however he pleased.

The feeling has happened before this… long before things came to this point. In moments of danger, moments that had nothing at all to do with sex, Dean had felt overwhelmed, confused by Castiel’s close presence. Cas, shoving him bodily against a wall, hand covering his mouth to keep him quiet, safe from enemies. In such moments, Dean had only half understood what was happening. The other half was wild-eyed and waiting, wondering; what next? Heart rollicking within the cage of his marked ribs. Castiel’s face, in anger or fear, was the beauty of hurricanes, of storms at sea. His eyes, the way he _looked_ at Dean, caused Dean to get stuck…. He looked right back, unable to look elsewhere, to break the connection. He stood too close to Castiel, even in moments that were casual, in passing. His need had grown enormous.

And, just as easily, Castiel _bent_ to him. The same eyes that darkened with something biblical became open, wide open to Dean. _Lit_. Castiel let him _in_. He let Dean keep a hand on the back of his neck, steering him through crowds. Or into the bedroom. He let Dean do whatever he wanted.

Dean wanted more. He wanted skin on skin, each of them somehow absorbing the other. He pushed to his feet, pressing close and feeling the full length of his body against Castiel’s. He kissed, noisy and sucking, Castiel’s mouth. Castiel’s hands slid over his back… Dean grabbed Cas’s ass. It brought a growl to the ache of his hollowed chest; he loved Castiel’s ass. He’d developed a bit of an obsession, as with the angel’s mouth.

It was the difference in their bodies that interested him. Cas was lean, strong; he could hold his own, to say the least. But where Dean was narrow and hard, bow-legged and knobby-kneed; Castiel showed something like softness. Something luscious and rich… from a lean torso, his hips gave way to a luxurious curving of ass, to thick thighs and a firm rounding of calves… to Dean he seemed all warmth, all furred animal. Parts of him were not celestial in the least.

He walked Castiel backwards, to the bed, and there sated himself with Castiel’s skin, with the bulk of his body and the hunger of his mouth. He rolled around with Cas, a tangling of arms and legs. He crawled about and kissed, bit every surface.

He was able to still himself only when laying between Castiel’s legs, sheltered between big thighs, drowning in heat. He sucked, a messy, needful thing. Castiel’s breath, ragged and labored, made waves of pleasure ripple through his body. The flexing of Castiel’s hips, the subtle thrust, made him drool… he struggled to take the cock, halo-hot and raw with wanting.

Cas sat up and coaxed Dean up, onto his lap. It was a yab-yum thing… facing one another, Dean’s legs laying over Castiel’s, bodies pressed close together, mouths open and seeking. Dean’s body rocked, his blood in a harsh surge to feel the animal nuzzle of their cocks rubbing together, pressing to blood-hot belly. In his wide-legged position, he felt very open. He wanted to be touched, to be penetrated. The thought, alone, made him moan aloud, his insides caught up in the vice; it squeezed and released, over and over.

Castiel kissed over his face, bit along his jaw. Strong hands slid over Dean’s back, then gripped to his hips, to the undercurve of his butt. Castiel rocked against him, mouth kissing to his ear, and Dean could in no way control his whimpers and gasps.

“What do you want?” Cas murmured at his ear.

Dean could only moan, holding tight. He wanted it to go on forever. To get lost in the feeling of Castiel handling him, kissing him. _Taking_ of him. He wanted Castiel moving inside him, filling him with darkness and light, burning off his skin. He wanted this rush, this heat; without end. The rush was loud.

 

THE END


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